Battle Royale with Cheese. And Stuttering. In a Circle.

So today at speech camp, the main event was called The Hot Seat, and it went like this.

One person sits in the middle of a group of people. The person in the middle is asked a question by one of the people in The Group, and they have to respond to that question by using any of the fluency techniques they've learned thus far as quickly and as fluently as they can. Before they can finish, though, someone else in The Group fires off another question, with the sole purpose of intentionally interrupting them. Why? So they can re-assess their fluency checklist and start in on the new question, sometimes before they even finish answering the previous one.

Sound crazy? It is. I'm not even sure if a non-stutterer could've handled The Group I was in, but man, lemme tell ya - I knocked the fucker right out the park.

Now that it's over, I don't really remember what questions I was asked, but what I do remember is that it was a blast. See, by nature, I think quickly, and I act quickly, and for those two or three minutes that I had in The Hot Seat, I talked quickly, too. I was remarkably fluent, as well - there were only a few instances where I lost control, but I was quickly and easily able to regain a handle on what I was saying and then steer it right back on course.

It was awesome. I felt absolutely fucking invincible.

The first round of The Hot Seat is pretty tame, to be honest. Yeah, it's really fast-paced and a tremendous mental exercise in thinking on your feet, but there was some level of order to it. The Group is seated around you in a semicircle, and for the first round, the questions come from left to right. The person in The Group seated to your immediate left begins the round of questions, and the order proceeds on from there, down and around the circle.

The Second Round, though, introduces a little more chaos. There is no more order from which the questions come anymore. No left-to-right round robin action - anyone in the circle can ask a question now, and they can ask them at any moment they choose. Hear one question from the third person down on the right? Try and get halfway through it before the next one from somebody else is beginning to take shape. Oh, and if you think heckling is out of the question here, think again. Michael Richards would crack like a watermelon in ten seconds.

It might sound annoying to some, but believe me - if you've never been able to handle yourself worth a good goddamn in a group conversation, and the thought of speaking fluently and coherently in front of even the smallest and most intimate crowds gives you explosive diarrhea, then this motherfucker is for YOU. It's like Fight Club for the Hopelessly Mute.

To my knowledge, there is no better method specifically designed to teach someone to interact quickly and efficiently in a high-pressure group setting. For all I know, its origins are steeped in information withdrawal techniques utilized by the military on POWs in times of war. CEOs and high-level managers should be forced to do this exercise on a weekly basis to teach themselves how to think under fire for the good of their own survival and that of their employees. The premise of The Hot Seat should be written into game shows filmed in enormous studio soundstages in Pasadena until the end of time. Get Howie Mandel and a product crossover with the Kingsford Charcoal people, and the shit pretty much writes itself.

So anyway, I rocked out with my cock out in The Hot Seat today, and I've rarely been more proud of myself than I am at this moment. I feel like I could reach into the sky and pull down the moon.

Hey! Bigot!

Get the fuck off my planet. Stop breathing all my air and making all my money and eating all my food. Stop drinking all my water and using up all my resouces, too, you prejudiced, hateful piece of shit. Your time's up, fucko.

Can you give me a reason why hating someone for being a homosexual should just be accepted by me? We're having a nice time out at the bar, and I'm just supposed to giggle when you tell me how disgusting two men kissing is? Or how much it offends your beliefs when I tell you how much fun I had at that gay bar that one time? Tell ya what, dipshit - don't expect anyone with a half a brain to give shit one about your beliefs and how much they mean to you when you express to me how much you obviously couldn't care less about theirs. Just because you're white, make a lot of money, and live in the South doesn't give you a Free Bigotry card, you fuckin' cracker. I'm GLAD about how much I pissed you off tonight, and I'm GLAD that you're going home to Crackerville and tell all your cracker friends about the faggot-loving California weirdo you met on your one trip outside your bumfuck little town that's defined solely by a Wal-Mart. Be sure to tell them that I really don't mind the niggers and spics that work in that Wal-Mart for a tenth of the wage you make, either. If I can find the time to make a merit badge for that, believe me - I will. If I had my way, I'd make it out of your skin.

Gay is the new black, people. Don't let anyone tell you different. Especially not David from Arkansas.

So much for Southern hospitality.